


We're In a Real Pickle, Aren't We Bill?

by orphan_account



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1361089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill gets fed up with Darcy's constant pouting over the fact that Katherine loves Jack and not him, so he decides to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're In a Real Pickle, Aren't We Bill?

As they made their way to the deli near the square, Bill seemed to chatter without stopping for breath. Darcy attempted to stop listening once he brought up Jack Kelly, but Bill’s enthusiasm had always been a hard thing to ignore.

"…so I told him no, I haven’t watched the sunrise from my rooftop, because I never actually go up on the roof, see, and then Jack was saying-“

"Bill," Darcy sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily, "could you do me a favor and talk about something _other_ than Jack Kelly?”

Bill stopped in his tracks. His arms dropped to his sides, falling away from the rather animated position they’d gained as he narrated his story. 

"He’s Katherine’s fiancé, Darce,” he said slowly.

Darcy rolled his eyes and turned away. “Yes, and soon I won’t have a choice regarding whether or not I have to hear about him, but for today-“

"For today," Bill commanded, "you’re going to behave like an adult and leave the past in the past."

Darcy considered turning around and leaving him right there. Bill seemed to sense it, and he placed a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “Look,” he said quietly, “I loved her too.”

Darcy flinched.

"But she’s happy! She’s finally happy for once in her life!" Bill pushed on. "She deserves this."

Darcy whirled back around. “But _him?!_ ”

"He’s good enough for her," Bill insisted, "and that’s good enough for me. And they’re getting married whether you like it or not. Now I’m not saying you have to like him just yet, but it’ll make your life a hell of a lot easier if you can at least be civil."

"I don’t want to hear any more about this today." Darcy snapped.

Bill seemed to deflate a bit, all his manic energy gone and replaced with something more like nerves. “Well that’s too bad,” he said, “because we’re meeting Jack for lunch in two minutes.”

Darcy gaped at him.

"You can’t be serious," he said after a moment.

Bill merely shrugged, and pulled out his watch to check the time. “If we stand around here much longer we’ll be late,” he said pointedly. “So are you coming or not?”

"……. you owe me for this."

"I _knew_ I could count on you!”

~~~

While conversation seemed to flow endlessly between Jack and Bill, Darcy only ever bothered to speak when Jack asked him something directly. While the other two went on about everything from the weather to the current price of ink, Darcy simply sat and watched as Jack picked apart his sandwich.

"Do you not like pickles?" He interrupted suddenly. 

Jack blinked at him.

"Because you can order a sandwich without pickles if you’re just going to take them off," Darcy explained, gesturing to the disemboweled sandwich Jack’s plate.

"Oh! No, no, I just … it’s just this habit ‘a mine," Jack said in rush as he began placing the pickles back on his sandwich. 

He looked up, grinning sheepishly. “I like pickles just fine,” he explained, “but see, my pal, Henry? He loves 'em. More than I do, more than anyone else in the whole world probably. And I always figure I'll just give mine to him, since he likes 'em so much. But you can't just, you know, give them to him, newsboy pride an’ all that, so what you do is you act like you don’t like ‘em but that oh, it’d be such a shame to waste ‘em, and there you have it!”

And Jack’s smile was so earnest as he finished his explanation that Darcy almost didn’t mind when Bill kicked him under the table.


End file.
